Trap House

by Sa'id Salaam

  “That’s what’s up,” Pony said over his shoulder as they exited the house.

  * * *

  “Man, I was ‘bout to get dat nigga,” Marcus proclaimed once they were back in the car.

  “Nigga, you was about to get us kilt,” Pony corrected.

  “Man, what y’all talking about?” Big Zo asked, having missed the unspoken exchange back in the house.

  “This crazy fool wanna rob Red,” Pony said.

  “Now that’s what’s up! Did you see that bankroll?” Big Zo exclaimed.

  “This nigga scared though,” Marcus said, hooking his thumb over at Pony beside him.

  “Whatever, but I ain’t robbin’ Red or nobody else,” Pony spat back emphatically.

  * * *

  A freak show was going full blast when the trio arrived at P.I.G.’s. As they walked in, their attention immediately went to the action on the floor, where two men were vigorously humping each end of a well-built young woman. She had large breasts that complemented her hard stomach and her round ass. Her shoulder-length hair was in disarray from the pounding she was taking. When their gaze finally made it to her face, they could see something was off about the girl, who was in her late teens at best. She had the slanted eyes of someone impaired with Down’s Syndrome, and she appeared oblivious to what the men were doing to her. Even when the man in front pulled out of her mouth and ejaculated in her face, she barely blinked. The blank expression she wore on her face didn’t change, no matter what they did.

  “Y’all want some of this?” P.I.G. asked jovially when he noticed Marcus and company.

  “Naw, we cool,” Marcus said, wishing he had time for a quick romp. But he hadn’t had a blast all day, and it was first things first.

  “You sure? She do anything! She retarded, and I just bought her,” he added.

  “Just let us get an onion so we can push,” Pony said bluntly. He was sickened at the sight of the helpless girl being abused.

  Earl was taken aback by the tone but understood. He knew his boss was a sick dude, but this was a new low—even for The Notorious P.I.G. “Gimme a stack. I’ll hook it up,” Earl said, feeling him.

  Pony had to get Marcus’s attention to get the money.

  Marcus handed it over and focused back on the action.

  Earl was back in a flash with the dope. “I threw you an extra eight ball,” he whispered as he handed the package to Pony. Earl made sure to stress the point that the hookup was on the strength of him.

  “Y’all staying here?” Pony asked curtly as he exited the open door.

  Marcus and Alonzo pried themselves away from the show and followed him out.

  “That’s who the fuck we need to rob,” Pony fumed once they were back in the car.

  “No you’re talking!” Marcus exclaimed. “That’s what’s up.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Tiffany paced her small room like a tiger in a cage, deep in thought and pondering where her next hit was coming from. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.” She cursed herself. In a brief moment of clarity, she’d convinced herself to pay her bills on payday instead of buying dope. Now she didn’t have a dime to spend on getting high. The full tank of gas and paid receipts were no consolation. She wanted to get high.

  Her days of snorting were behind her once she smoked that first primo at the hotel. She’d chipped away at the few grams she’d taken from Marcus until they were depleted entirely. She loved the intense high that smoking gave her. A few sizzling pulls from a blunt, and she was zone coasting. Snorting just couldn’t compare to that. Tiffany had vowed to stop getting high every day, but it was a vow she broke every day.

  Payday was days away, so she was faced with the dilemma of how to raise some capital. “Yeah, right.” She chuckled as the notion to hit her parents up for cash crossed her mind. She knew she’d milked that cow dry. Her father had forbidden her mother from giving her another dime.

  Inspiration struck when she spied Carlos in his driveway across the street. Figuring he’d be good for a loan that would never be paid back, she sprang into action.

  Tiffany was halfway down the stairs when she took stock of the huge sweatpants and T-shirt she had on. She decided she’d change close and help her cause. Back in her room, she swapped her sweats for a pair of Daisy Dukes. She removed her bra and tied a knot in her shirt to expose her hard stomach.

  Carlos was just finishing up washing his car when Tiffany came out of her house. Even from across the street, she could see his eyes lock on her breasts that bounced freely as she hopped down her front steps. Tiffany was amused by the shocked expression Carlos wore as she made her way over to him. Then came her turn to be shocked.

  Carlos’s front door opened, and a stunning young lady gracefully exited. “Hey, baby. You done?” she asked sweetly. Her beauty made the question sound like a love song.

  Tiffany’s heart stopped as the girl made her way over and kissed Carlos on his lips. She was in awe of how pretty the female was. The woman was almost white with long, almost blonde hair and green eyes. The tasteful summer dress could not conceal the voluptuous figure underneath it. The girl was a knockout, plain and simple.

  “Oh, who’s your little friend?” she asked, scanning Tiffany with her eyes.

  Tiffany crossed her arms in an effort to conceal herself, now embarrassed by her hoochie mama getup.

  “Huh? Oh, this is my lil sister,” Carlos said, regaining his bearings.

  “Hey, lil sis,” the woman sang genially.

  “Yeah…um, hey,” Tiffany said, wishing she could pull a Bewitched and wiggle her nose and disappear. Instead, she turned quickly on her heels and headed home.

  “Hey, Tiff!” Carlos called from her rear. “Did you need something?”

  Tiffany could only shake her head. No way was she gonna let them see the tears falling freely from her eyes.

  * * *

  The crushing disappointment only fueled Tiffany’s desire to get high. With no other options, she gathered up some of her jewelry from her dresser. She decided she could live without all the trinkets Marcus had given her over the years. She threw in a few of her own pieces to augment the slum jewelry Marcus was able to afford.

  In her haste, she almost left wearing her costume. “Uh-uh!” She chuckled when she caught a glimpse of her scantily clad self in the mirror. She purposely selected a summer dress similar to the one worn by Carlos’s girlfriend and set out.

  Since all the pawnshops were pretty much the same in her estimate, Tiffany finally selected one based on nothing more than its pretty sign. Once inside, she waited impatiently as the lone clerk helped a customer. The delay proved to be instructive, as she was able to learn the pawning process. She learned that she could reclaim her property by a certain time. She lied to herself, vowing that she would return on payday to get her jewelry back.

  “Yes?” the unprofessional clerk inquired curtly.

  “I need some money for these,” Tiffany replied, carefully laying out her jewelry for inspection.

  “How much you tryina get?” he asked, looking the pieces over.

  “I guess about $500 should do it,” Tiffany said naively.

  The clerk looked stunned for a second and then began to laugh. Surely she must be joking, he thought, but he soon realized she wasn’t because of the serious look on her face. “Can’t give you that much,” he offered contritely.

  “How much then?” Tiffany asked, the sting of being laughed at evident in her voice.

  “I can go $100,” the clerk replied in a take-it-or-leave-it tone.

  She was insulted, but no so much as to turn down the offer. After a few forms, fingerprints, and a photograph, she was on her way…on her way to P.I.G.’s place.

  * * *

  After P.I.G. hung up from Tiffany informing him that she was on her way, he cleared some of the stragglers from the room. He was delighted to see her again.

  Blast eyed him suspiciously, curious as to his sudden change of demeanor.

 
“Earl, when Tiffany gets here, I want you to stall before serving her,” P.I.G. said, giddy about his plan.

  Blast sucked her teeth and stormed off at the mention of the girl’s name.

  Tiffany had never seen P.I.G.’s house so empty. Besides P.I.G. and Earl, there was only the young girl coloring in her coloring book on the floor. She was confused as to why the obviously retarded girl was there and why she was dressed in a negligee that was clearly not age appropriate. “Can I have an eight ball please?” Tiffany asked politely, extending the cash to Earl.

  “Sure, but it’s gonna be a second. We still bagging up,” Earl said, retreating to the rear.

  “Have a seat,” P.I.G. said sweetly. “Where is your lil man?”

  “Oh, we not together anymore,” she replied, confirming what he had heard.

  “That’s good to hear.” P.I.G. smiled, attempting to be sexy. “Gina!” he called loudly to break her from the trance of the coloring books.

  When the girl looked up with her crooked stare, P.I.G. leaned back and pulled out an enormous penis. Tiffany did a double-take, not believing her eyes. An even bigger shock came when Gina knelt in front of him and took as much of him in her mouth as she could. Tiffany watched in horror as the handicapped girl feverishly worked her head up and down. She was relieved when Blast came out and tossed a package on the table; Tiffany just wanted to get out of there.

  P.I.G. held his tongue at the deliberate attempt at sabotaging his plan.

  “Um, excuse me, Blast,” Tiffany said after looking at the drugs. “If you don’t mind, I wanted it hard,” she asked sheepishly.

  The realization that Tiffany was now smoking crack was too much for P.I.G. He knew her decline would have to come at some point. As he looked at her, imagining himself in her mouth, he exploded in Gina’s.

  The force almost knocked the girl over, but Gina just sat there as P.I.G. emptied his scrotum in her face.

  “Go clean up,” Blast ordered as she came back with the dope. She tossed the package to Tiffany and then said, “Take it with you.”

  Tiffany looked at P.I.G. for approval to leave with the drugs. “Is it okay?” she inquired, using her baby girl voice that worked so well on her daddy.

  The phony display caused Blast to suck her teeth again as she helped clean Gina off.

  “Yeah, go on, sweetie,” he replied, still stroking his huge penis.

  Wanda was just pulling up as Tiffany made it to the curb. “Hey, girl!” Wanda sang cheerfully, as if they were the closest of friends.

  “Hey yaself!” Tiffany replied, matching her tone.

  “Ima ‘bout to grab something. Wait for me, and we’ll hang out,” Wanda offered.

  “That’s cool,” she said, intending to smoke Wanda’s dope. When Wanda disappeared into P.I.G.’s house, Tiffany quickly took out a gram to use with her and saved the rest for herself.

  Minutes later, Wanda returned and led the way to her house.

  * * *

  When they arrived, Tiffany placed her paltry offering on the table. “It’s on me today,” Tiffany announced proudly. The small amount would last her a day or two, but that was one blunt for Wanda.

  “P.I.G. sold you that?” she exclaimed.

  “Yeah. He hooked me up cuz my money be short. He can be cool when he want to,” Tiffany replied.

  “The only thing cool about that fat bastard is the ice water running through his veins,” she said.

  “That nigga like me, so I showed him a little leg.” Tiffany giggled.

  It was at that moment that Wanda saw just how naïve her little friend really was. In that same moment, she decided she would use the girl for whatever she could squeeze out of her. “A’ight. You showed him a little leg, huh? That nigga gon’ have you sweepin’ up.” She laughed.

  “What is this ‘sweeping up’ I keep hearing about?” Tiffany asked curiously.

  “Gurrrl…you do NOT want to know,” Wanda said emphatically. “And what’s up with that little retarded girl?”

  “Girl…you…do…NOT…want…to…know!” Tiffany said, repulsed by the memory.

  Tiffany was taken aback when during small talk, Wanda put the entire amount of crack into the blunt. As she rolled, Tiffany filled her in on Blast’s behavior.

  “I can’t believe she think someone wants her man,” Wanda said, lighting the blunt. The drug sizzled loudly as she inhaled deeply.

  Tiffany caught herself inhaling along with her as she had the blunt. When she did get the blunt for her turn, she pulled on it as if her life depended on it. The heavily laced blunt hit her instantly. A current-like wave swept over her as the powerful drug coursed through her system. The days of skimpy blunts were over. Tiffany was on to the next chapter.

  CHAPTER 10

  Tiffany shook her head when she saw Kim walking in the store. “She look a hot mess.” She chuckled to herself.

  Even with her hair done and some of Tiffany’s church clothes, she still looked like a junkie. Since the sting was working, it really didn’t matter. For the last two weeks, the women’s plan had been successful. Tiffany was using legitimate customers’ credit cards for Kim to make purchases. Kim would simply then return the merchandise for a cash refund.

  It took a week for the store auditors to become aware of the irregularity, and it took security another day to identify the culprits.

  Five separate sets of eyes followed Kim through the store as she gathered high-ticket items. Two new undercover guards discreetly tailed her, while Mrs. Lovejoy and two others watched the monitors in her office.

  Kim, meanwhile, was having trouble staying focused on the business at hand due to the small piece of cocaine in her purse, demanding to be smoked. “Okay, okay! Ima smoke you. Dang!” Kim said to the drug as she detoured to the nearest restroom.

  “What the hell is this crazy bitch doing?” Tiffany said when Kim turned off. “I know she ain’t ‘bout to take no blast up in here,” she said, recognizing that look in her eyes. She was now very familiar with that look; it was one she often saw in her own eyes. She understood the yearning, when that old Rob Base song played in the head, “I Wanna Rock Right Now,” and that monkey on your back goes to squealing. She knew there was no stopping it. “Shit, I could use a little pick-me-up my damn self,” Tiffany admitted.

  It was a good thing the restroom was empty, not that it mattered to Kim. She rushed into the first stall and went to work. Kim whipped out her shooter from one shoe and her lighter from the other. She fished out the small piece of crack from her purse as a guard peered over the wall from the next stall.

  The guard almost blew her composure and surveillance when she realized what Kim was doing. She couldn’t believe the little junkie had the audacity to smoke crack cocaine in the bathroom of a major department store in the middle of the day. The guard fought off the urge to strangle the little crack addict. She ducked back down and went outside to pick up her target once she left the restroom.

  The guard had been brought in from another store, since it was an internal theft. She had been watching Tiffany for a couple of days and felt bad for her. It was clear that her parents invested a lot of time, energy, and love in her upbringing. She had no doubt that the girl had some nigga come along and undo what her parents did with his soft words and his hard dick. It would be a useful intervention, the guard reasoned, remembering how she had strayed herself. Luckily, the people in her own life stuck by her and got her through it.

  “What the fuck took you so long?” Tiffany barked through clenched teeth when Kim finally made it to her register.

  “I had to pee,” Kim lied, her mouth twitching uncontrollably. “Mmmhmm,” Tiffany replied, ringing up the clothing. This, their second lick of the day, came to over $900. They had struck $400 just a few hours earlier.

  With them becoming more brazen and more frequent, Mrs. Lovejoy decided it was the day to make her move.

  Tiffany she was getting careless, but she had to have it. Every since she had smoked that heavily laced blunt with
Wanda, her usage had doubled. She was blazing her way through an eight ball of hard every day now, but even that was a pittance compared to what Kim ran through her shooter every day.

  “Thank you. Come again,” Tiffany said professionally as she handed Kim her purchase.

  “Oh, I will.” Kim giggled, amused by their scheme.

  Tiffany’s expression changed to horror when she saw security approaching.

  Kim saw it and turned to investigate. “Oh shit!” Kim exclaimed and tried to run for it. Being a crack whore, she was pretty nimble, a skill honed from darting through the traffic in pursuit of johns. She made it exactly two steps before being apprehended by the large female guard.

  “You two come along quietly,” Mrs. Lovejoy said sternly. “No need to embarrass yourselves any further.”

  “Wh-what’s going on?” Tiffany stammered most unconvincingly.

  “We’ll discuss it in my office,” Mrs. Lovejoy said, leading the way.

  The group followed in silence as Tiffany’s co-workers pointed and whispered.

  “Sit down,” Mrs. Lovejoy demanded as she sat behind her desk. “Not you!” she said to Kim, who tried to take the empty seat next to Tiffany. “You stand!” She looked at Tiffany, with a hurt expression on her face. “I cannot believe you have been stealing,” the supervisor said, her voice on the edge of breaking. “I’ve known you your whole life. I remember when you were born,” she continued as a single tear escaped her eye.

  Tiffany was unmoved by the display of emotion. All she was concerned with was how she was gonna get high. A slight smile spread across her lips when she remembered the $200 in her car from the earlier lick.

  “Do you find this amusing?” Mrs. Lovejoy demanded, misunderstanding the smirk.

  Tiffany remained mute, her eyes glued to the floor in front of her.

  “Well? What have you got to say for yourself?” Mrs. Lovejoy asked, pounding her desk. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” the plainclothes guard interjected. “I believe I can answer that.” She snatched Kim’s shoe off and held up the crack pipe.